


A Quiet Corner of the World

by alafaye



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:50:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/pseuds/alafaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the week, Watson is happily married. His week-ends, however, belong to Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quiet Corner of the World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vernets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vernets/gifts).



> Written for vernets for the 2014 fest at the LJ community acd_holmesfest. First posted [here](http://acd-holmesfest.livejournal.com/46423.html).

The day was beautiful and my shoulder wasn't bothering me much as I walked down the path to Holmes' cottage, the groceries swinging with my steps. Spring had finally settled into our part of the world and I was grateful to no longer be stepping in quite so much mud. I didn't understand how Holmes managed during the winter, when I didn't bring him any groceries, but as the former detective had not yet perished, I wasn't worried. Much.

But Holmes was doing well on his own. A young girl came around once a week to tidy up and dust, sweep, all the domestic chores that even escaped myself at times. Holmes had grown to be a passable cook, provided there was something at hand, and he had a small garden. He continued to gather newspapers like a magpie with shiny toys and made notes about it all. Journals on medical advancements in the investigative field were scattered throughout the rooms and my books were hidden away.

It was different from our days in London, but we had settled into separate lives now as easily as we had then. I missed it at times, missed the chemical smells and the sulking fits and his sudden bursts of mood. Yet I was happy. I had married again and was quite content spending my weeks with my wife and my weekends with Holmes. She never complained about it, my days away, though I suspected that she had some similar arrangement. (I detected a note of perfume that she did not wear when I came home on many a Sunday.)

Holmes, I suspected, knew that this sort of arrangement suited me perfectly. I am, by nature, a man who prefers to be married and Holmes is not. Not that we ever could be married, but we could have settled into something similar here in this cottage. As I said, though, Holmes is not such a man. He has learned self sufficiency over the years and much as he values our relationship in any form, I've noticed a definite improvement in his mood since he began living on his own.

It bothers me none as he always welcomes me with open arms and a warm bed.

As I near the front door, he walks around from the back writing in a new journal. It is one I gave him this past winter for Christmas. A rush of warmth came over me, seeing him use it. "Holmes," I called, with more affection than is appropriate for the open air.

He looked up, startled. "Watson. Is it that day already?"

I couldn't stop the fond smile that spread across my lips. 

~~~

I woke to the sensation of being watched and shortly after heard what sounded like pencil on paper. I groaned and yet resisted the urge to cover myself. "Again? My dear, I am far past my prime and should not be recorded. I fear future generations will be shocked."

Holmes chuckled. "If anyone should pry into my journals when I am gone, they deserve to be shocked."

I opened my eyes and sighed. "Come back down here."

Holmes rolled his eyes, but set aside his pencil and paper. I greeted him with a kiss. "Evening."

"Evening," he whispered back. He traced my lips with his finger and sighed. "I wonder sometimes how I can go from missing you so much to wanting my privacy at the end of our weekends."

I touched my nose to his. "Your mercurial moods, Holmes. It is how you are chemicaly built."

He wrinkled his nose in distaste though if it was from words or my touching it, I was unsure. He left the bed and called over his shoulder, "Stay there. I wish to eat our supper in bed."

How could I say no? There was something decadent about it and there was something erotic about sharing a meal in sheets so thoroughly ruined as these were. Besides, it was more efficient than having to stop and move from the downstairs to the upstairs.

~~~

I leaned back and hummed as the sun warmed my face. "Your garden is much better than mine."

"It is not my fault that you and your wife did not pick out your home in this weather," Holmes replied, the words muffled by his hat. It wasn't the usual type, but was an improved model that he had, of course, designed himself. "No, you had to pick a cottage in the autumn."

I shrugged and settled more firmly in the chair. "It simply gives me more incentive to visit."

There was a decided pause and I opened one eye to see him. He smirked. "Am I not enough?"

I pretended to consider it, staring off into the woods behind the garden. "No."

He growled and set aside his work to storm over to me. Flipping up the veil, he leaned into my space. "Perhaps we should retire for a long lunch, then? Convince you otherwise?"

I smirked and dared a kiss to his lips. "A very long one, yes. I think that will do."

~~~

Holmes' study was as ever cluttered and stained with chemicals. It was clear that the maid was not allowed in the room, but I did what I could to keep Holmes from succumbing to a fallen stack of books or choking on dust. I examined the chemicals, laid out against a back wall. He needed some resupplying, but he would tell me if he needed me to pick them up.

The man himself was at a desk cluttered with notebooks, scribbling away at something. I rubbed his shoulders. "I'm off."

He sighed and half turned, putting his hand over mine. "I will miss you."

I smiled and kissed his brow. "I'll be back next week-end. I assure you."

"I need no assurance," he replied, pulling me down for a proper kiss. "I know you'll be back. You never could resist me."

I smirked. "I rather thought that was mutual."

He huffed and shoved me away. "Off with you. I've had enough sentiment for the week. Bring some biscuits next time. I believe your wife makes some excellent butter ones."

I shook my head fondly. "I'll pass on the request." 

In the front hall, I pulled on my jacket and checked my pockets, making sure I had everything I needed. I popped my head back around the study door. "I love you, Holmes."

He waved his hand over his shoulder, but the feeling, I knew, was returned. Whistling, I made my way home.


End file.
